


Unwavering Service

by Raikishi



Series: Of Service [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Service Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:28:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29758953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raikishi/pseuds/Raikishi
Summary: Byleth shoves him a little, one hand curling in his hair as the other tugs up the skirt he’s just put on her. The rest of his question dies on his tongue. He watches with rapt attention as the hem of her skirt rises up his thighs. She removes her hand from his hair. Fits it under his jaw and squeezes just hard enough for him to grunt as she reels him in.“I need you to service your Queen."In which Felix does just that
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/My Unit | Byleth
Series: Of Service [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2187168
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	Unwavering Service

Felix is steady.

Unflappable.

And diligent in all aspects. 

He’d been that way as a student and as a man, had only grown into duty and personal responsibility. 

Somehow, Byleth had grown into one of those responsibilities.

She puts her foot through the stocking he holds up for her, watching the bow of his head as he bends to pull them up over her knees, up over her thighs, and around the curve of her ass. His fingers brush just above her tailbone, lingering for a near imperceptible moment before moving on. 

This close, the lines beneath his eyes are even more pronounced, shadowed beneath the drape of his hair. He leans to the right, drawing up her skirts and she shivers as his breath plumes over her exposed stomach. 

She wants to put her hands on him. Wants him down on his knees in supplication. 

The urge hits her just as hard as that Demonic Beast had. Desire ties tight in her stomach, tangling in knots. Her body, just recovering, stirs. 

His fingers skim up her spine and just as he is about to rise to his feet, she seizes the buckles of his jacket and _yanks_.

To his credit, Felix only flails for a half-second before he catches himself. Byleth allows herself a moment to marvel at his core strength and then tugs again. Sputtering, Felix tries to resist. She places her foot on the end of his cloak, digging her toes into the fur before planting her heel down firmly.

“Byleth,” Felix barks, bristling and spitting like a feral cat. He scowls at her, surprise giving way to impatience before he spies something on her face and his expression goes slack. Realization blooms on his face like a flower. She watches a blush creep over his cheeks and bleed down his neck. 

Placed on uncertain grounds, Felix’s first reaction is to fight. Byleth watches in amusement as he hunches his shoulders almost defensively. His gaze ticks over her foot and up over the rest of her body. As if they were on the training grounds instead of their bedroom and he needed to figure out how to disarm her.

“Byleth – “

She tugs him forward hard enough he scrambles to catch himself against her hips. His cheek knocks her belly and his blush grows darker. His eyes dart to her face, wide and stunned, before flicking to the door - no doubt trying to remember if he’d locked it. 

She tracks the little flick of his tongue as he licks his lips, thrumming at the little frisson of heat in his eyes.

“My leg’s healed,” she says, flexing her foot in his cloak. He tries to tug it away from her and she firmly sets her entire weight on it. His throat works as he takes in their position, halfway between arousal and annoyance. His hand curves around her ankle, not trying to remove her, just holding. 

“Your ribs – “

“Those were long healed too,” she taps her chest in demonstration.

“That’s what you said about her leg last week.”

Byleth rolls her eyes. Not exactly the talk she’d wanted when she put Felix at her feet but when has he ever been anything but contrary. He frowns at her as she traces her thumb over his bottom lip. He doesn’t bite her though. She takes it as a good sign. 

“Linhardt cleared me yesterday. You’ll notice the casts and bandages are gone.”

Felix huffs but doesn’t offer another argument, parting his lips to let her push into his mouth. The tension bleeds out of his spine in increments and Byleth huffs, affecting affront. 

“You would trust Linhardt’s word over mine?” 

“Yes.”

Byleth pouts at him and then hooks her thumb behind his bottom teeth as if bridling a horse, tugging his face up to meet hers.

“Over your Queen’s?”

His eyes darken as she bows over him, flaring like embers as she hovers over his mouth. He tries for words - she can see his throat working and she can feel a retort rumbling over her knuckle – but then falls silent. She removes her foot from his cape, pleased when he doesn’t immediately leap to his feet. In reward, she slides her foot over into his lap, nudging his thigh apart before pressing the heel down lightly against the inseam of his pants. The breath against her knuckles quickens. 

“I thought you were in _my_ service, not anyone else’s.”

He sucks in a breath so sharply it hisses over his teeth. The look in his eyes is incredulous. Shocked. And _wanting_. 

She retrieves her thumb so she can kiss him. 

He’s normally a biter when he’s worked up, often nipping at her lip as if he needed to prove something; but, here and now, he’s soft and pliant, almost submissive as he turns his face up to hers. His mouth parts beneath hers and he shivers as she licks into his mouth.

When she pulls away, his eyes are hazy. Unfocused. 

Byleth feels her pulse quicken in reaction. The same way it would whenever she forced him to ground during their spars. There was something to be said about gaining an advantage over one Felix Hugo Fraldarius. 

“Do you –?”

He’s been asking that since she woke up in the infirmary. 

Do you want me to grab that? 

Do you want me to bring that to you? 

Do you need anything from me?

_“Let me take care of you.”_

He’d begged her weeks ago to tend to her needs. 

_“Put me in your service.”_

She has very different needs tonight. 

Byleth shoves him a little, one hand curling in his hair as the other tugs up the skirt he’s just put on her. The rest of his question dies on his tongue. He watches with rapt attention as the hem of her skirt rises up his thighs. She removes her hand from his hair. Fits it under his jaw and squeezes just hard enough for him to grunt as she reels him in.

“I need you to service your Queen,” she speaks the words with a little growl, something hot coiling in tight circles in the core of her. It erupts into something molten at the look in his eyes. 

She can feel his cock twitch in his trousers and he shifts, rocking himself absently against her heel as his hands flex at his side. He’s not aware he’s moving. His focus is on her, sharp as any blade.

Byleth feels herself smile. Felix had no real tics. No restless habits where he shifted and tapped his fingers. Nothing escaped his rigid control except in these moments … 

The thought is intoxicating. Potent as any ale. 

She reels him in.

Felix’s lashes flutter as he presses a kiss to her pubic bone. His hands tug at her skirts, white-knuckled as he holds them against her hips. He fixes her with one long look before delving in, his mouth parting around her cunt without preamble. Byleth shivers at the first touch of his tongue, moaning under her breath as he traces a scorching line between her legs. His tongue flicks between her folds, flattening out and dragging up in long strokes, the rough pressure combined with the light press of his nose against her skin makes her quiver. 

He’s good at this. Much better than he’d been when they’d first fallen into bed. Felix has always approached mastering a skill with a single-minded focus. Byleth can only be grateful that this had been one of those skills. 

She quivers as he licks at her, pleasure racing up her spine. His tongue curls deliciously over her clit and he meets her eyes as he closes his mouth around it and _sucks_ – 

Byleth moans, bowing over him, entrusting her weight to him. One arm curves beneath her buttock. One of his hands - sword calloused and rough - gropes at a cheek as he presses more firmly against her. She tugs at his hair, wanting him closer, wanting him deeper, and with a sweet groan he buries his tongue into her. His cock presses urgently against her foot and he ruts mindlessly at her feet, making a sound, animalistic and growling in the back of his throat as he drinks her in. She considers letting him jerk off like this. On his knees at her feet. Slaking his thirst on her cunt.

She quivers at the thought, arousal dripping off her tongue in thick groans. 

But having him do so would mean the loss of his hands on her and she’s not ready to give that up. He doesn’t ask either, his mouth too preoccupied with granting her as much pleasure as he can, licking and sucking with frantic enthusiasm.

Byleth’s orgasm builds, slithering through her like a serpent, pleasure sinking fangs deep into her skin. She cums, shuddering on her feet, her nails digging into Felix’s shoulder as it sweeps through her. After so long, her orgasm is intense and deep, pulsing through her blood in steady waves.

“Ease up,” she pats Felix’s shoulder and then yanks at his hair when he pulls away, “I didn’t say you could stop completely.”

Felix makes a noise. Not quite a complaint. At least not one he means. It’s the same exasperated noise he makes when she demands another serving of dinner. Right before he gets up to provide it.

She combs her hands absently through his hair - thoroughly messing up the work he’d put into it - sighing as he licks at her slowly. 

“Going to be late,” he mutters after a long moment, the words rumbling over her cunt and making her drip. 

“Like you give a shit,” she tugs at his hair, urging him forward again. 

Felix says nothing, only buries his tongue in her again, slow and artful this time, stoking her pleasure careful as he would coals beneath the fireplace, pressing at her until it ignites again. Her knees quiver as he alternates his strokes, his tongue toying expertly with her clit. Heat gathers between her legs and she grinds forward desperately against his face, shuddering all over when she sees Felix close his eyes and lay his tongue flat for her use. Her second orgasm hits quick and sudden, rushing through her in one great wave, prolonged by the obedient way Felix holds himself steady and lets her ride her pleasure out on her tongue. 

Truly at her service. 

When she at last releases him, his eyes are hazy and unfocused. His fingers drop down to his groin, flexing against the inseam. She nudges it aside with her foot and while he grunts at the motion, he does not try to resist the silent order. Felix only watches her with a bleary gaze, holding himself still and silent as she gathers herself. As if waiting for an order.

_“Put me in your service.”_

Byleth shudders at the memory. She yanks at his collar, pulling hard enough the buttons pop open and that seems to bring him back a little. Felix's lip twitches, a little growl of protest caught against his teeth. His mouth works silently, trying to summon words. 

“You can finish dressing me now,” she says, removing her foot from between his legs, not missing the way his hips hitch towards her and the way his lips quiver as he lets out a shocked exhale. 

Felix gapes at her for a long moment, his expression slack and vulnerable, his eyes wide with stunned arousal. Amber eyes search her face for a jest, desire burning like an open flame. Power slithers down her body, burning like Kingdom vodka, as she takes him in. He looks a damn mess. His mouth and chin slick with her pleasure. His cloak and fine noble clothes rumpled. His hair half falling around his shoulders in messy waves. 

He looks like a man well used and she wonders if he’d let her keep him like this. On his knees in their bedroom, rumpled and horny, waiting for her return. Waiting for her to put him to use again. 

She thinks he might.

“Felix. My clothes.” 

For a moment he looks as if he might fight her. There’s a snipe in him, something low and biting brewing on the tip of his tongue, seconds from being brandished like a weapon. She tilts her head at him, daring him to swipe, and the fight blows out of him in a long gusty exhalation. He sets about fixing her skirts and putting together the rest of her outfit. 

He’s back to his typical stern self by the time he pulls a cloak over her shoulders, bristling like a cat when she teases a finger against his inseam.

“Too late for that,” he mutters but there’s no heat to it. Nothing that would sound like an accusation. He looks at her as if he’s trying to parse out her thoughts. Still trying to make sense of what just happened. Taking pity, Byleth leans in. Mindful of his hair this time, she settles for grasping the crook of his elbow. 

“After … “ she makes a gesture at the door, indicating the meeting they’ve yet to attend, “I’ve a present for you.” 

Felix shivers at her words, his eyes dark as he watches her. He submits quietly as she bites his bottom lip, husking a low desperate groan as she tugs it between her teeth, his breath hitching as she breathes a promise against his mouth, “ _For your service_.”

**Author's Note:**

> angy catboy's belated birthday fic (F!Byleth for his b-day this year - that's equality folks).
> 
> first it's belated, then he don't even get off, smh. 
> 
> maybe next year he'll get pegged. who knows 🙃


End file.
